


when the lake is a mirror

by classybut_trashy



Category: Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon & Comics)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-03-05 20:12:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18835936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/classybut_trashy/pseuds/classybut_trashy
Summary: oh bitch u thought the unknown was done with wirt and greg? think again lmao





	1. Chapter 1

Wirt had always hated summer. The heat layered lazily on itself and created hazy mirages in the distance that left him feeling slightly unsettled, not to mention the fact that he spent every day working in the humid record store or sprawled in front of his fan, seeking any relief from the oppressive heatwave that seemed to creep into every shady corner and remain until well into September. But he hated this specific summer more than the rest.

On this particular day, he was closing for the store when a gust of cold wind burst through the door. He paused, propped the broom up on the wall and walked to the door. Several dead brown leaves were scattered near the entrance, but no sign of anyone else. Which was weird because he was confident he'd already locked the door when the clock on the wall had finally reached 9:00.

Whatever, he thought as he locked the door again. The sooner this whack ass summer is over the better.

This wasn't the first time he'd felt a pull in his gut to find the source of these bizarre occurrences though. Last month he'd woken up to vines growing over his bed, but when Greg ran in to see why he was screaming, they'd immediately withered and died. At the time, Wirt had written it off as a combination of the heat and that he had probably dreamt the whole thing, but just the other day he'd fainted behind the counter and had woken up in a cold sweat, his limbs feeling stiff and frozen and his vision blurry. That night he'd vomited an alarming amount of leaves up on his way home. Disturbing was an understatement. He'd neglected to tell his mother though. He didn't want her to worry about some weird illness of his, especially when he was feeling fine the rest of the time. She'd probably just tell him he was working too much and make him quit. But if he didn't have a job how would they keep up with rent as well as fix his car? No, it was better if he kept these incidents to himself.

He walked back to the bathrooms where he'd been sweeping and grabbed the broom. Or, at least, he tried to. It didn't budge, and when he looked at it he realized that it had been bound tightly to the wall by thick vines. He glanced up. The whole room, the shelves, the counter, the lights, were all draped in vines and dripping leaves. Gasping, he fell back, and scrambled for the back door but found that blocked by vines as well. Heart pounding, Wirt made a mad dash for the windows at the front of the store, but his foot was caught by a branch and he heard a sharp snap and fell to the ground, several feet away from the windows. He tried to pick himself up, but pain shot through his leg and he fell to the ground. Gradually, everything began to get fuzzy and as he tried to stand up, he fell to his knees and his world went dark.


	2. Chapter 2

"Wirt? Wirt!" Beatrice shook his shoulder, but he didn't move. He was barely breathing, and the pulse at his neck was almost imperceptible. Her dog snuffled around Wirt’s head, ruffling his hair and turning his head to the side. Beatrice shooed him away. Her attention returned to Wirt until she felt something wet on her leg. Looking down, she noticed his ankle, swollen to the size of a melon and when she gently poked it, it felt mushy to the touch and the ooze that had been leaking from the swelling spurted everywhere.

“Yuck! How the hell did this happen?” Beatrice gagged and flicked the black slime off her fingers. “God that was disgusting.” 

Wirt groaned, and Beatrice wiped her hand off on his pants and shook him again, and this time he leaned up on to his elbows and coughed up a few leaves before slumping back onto the ground. His face was pale, and he made no move to rise again, but at least his breathing was back to normal. 

Beatrice raised an eyebrow. Wirt had grown since she’d last seen him. His hair was longer and shaggier, and his pant leg was soaked in whatever was leaking from his leg. For some reason his white t shirt was ripped at the shoulder and smudged with dirt. But while he looked like crap now, she could tell that something about him was different. Obviously now wasn’t the time to wonder about his character development, she thought so she shook his arm again, and this time he came to.

“Who are you? Where am I? What happened to my leg!? Who are you?” Wirt started to panic. All around him were trees and filtered sunlight and this strange girl at his side. Nothing was making sense anymore. Maybe he should have said something when he was back home, but apparently it was too late for that. Now he was back to wandering through strange places and this time he didn’t even have Greg to give him purpose.

“Geez Wirt, get a grip. I’m Beatrice, remember? I used to be a lot smaller and covered in feathers. Some might even say I was a bird. But that was months ago, and you went home so I figured I’d seen the last of you.” Beatrice shrugged, and got to her feet. “Here, I’ll help you to the house. Just, try not to ooze on the floor. I don’t feel like cleaning up after you.” She offered him her hand, and he stumbled to his feet, wincing at the twinge in his ankle and leaned his weight against Beatrice. The dog ran up ahead of them, barking and alerting the family to their arrival. 

Wirt grimaced as he lowered himself onto the couch in Beatrice’s house. Immediately her mother began fussing over him, and he suddenly became subject to several pairs of eyes trained on him and the trail of slime that followed him inside. Thankfully Beatrice pushed the kids outside and shut the curtains as well, and came back, making a face at the swelling on Wirt’s leg. 

“Well Wirt, it looks like the only thing I can do is try and drain all the fluid out of the ankle,” Beatrice’s mother said. “Beatrice, fetch me a bucket. We may be here awhile.” Gently, she wrapped a cloth around the swollen ankle and pulled it tight. The slime spurted everywhere, and Wirt yelped. The pain was excruciating. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to walk on it again, he thought, and I wonder how I’ll get home again. But just then, Beatrice’s mother squeezed again, and his thoughts were drowned out by the flare of pain up his leg. 

An hour later the swelling had gone down, and Beatrice had carried bucket after bucket of slime out of the house, grumbling for all of it. Wirt’s ankle was still cocked at a funny angle, but for the most part it had returned to its normal size. After setting it with two branches and a long strip of fabric, Beatrice’s mother sat back and wiped her hands on her apron. “All better, or at least as better as it’s going to get. How’d your leg get like this anyway?”

“I’m not sure,” answered Wirt. “All I know is I…” He paused. His memory was fuzzy, but even from what he remembered, it all seemed too wild and impossible to even begin to describe. “I don’t remember much at all,” he muttered, and sheepishly looked down, wishing he could articulate his feelings. “I remember everything being covered in vines, and I tried to run, but I tripped, and everything went dark. I guess that’s when my ankle got twisted but-” Suddenly, Wirt fell back. A cold sweat broke out all over his body, and he distinctly heard a low melodious voice whisper behind him.

“Welcome back, Pilgrim…”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hey guys been reeling from sum very sexy summer depression so sorry this took so long to write. also im working on deciding on a plot before i start writing so hopefully the next chapters will be more coherent/connected (but the writing style will be the same trash it's always been lol)

When Greg woke up that morning, everything seemed like a normal sunny day. He got dressed, put on an orange sock and put on a purple sock and then put on his favorite sandals and hopped out the door. Bagel was sitting on the railing outside, and croaked when Greg picked him up and set him on top of his head. Greg frowned. Bagel just didn’t seem like himself this morning. He was cold, and very dry.

“Hey Bagel, what’s goin’ on with you?” No response. Greg put him down in the grass. Still nothing, not even a lazy blink in his direction. “Hmmmm, this seems like a job for Detective Wirt,” Greg said, racing inside and up the stairs to Wirt’s room. He knocked twice on the door, and when he heard nothing, he barged in, expecting to find Wirt still asleep. But Wirt wasn’t there. All Greg saw was an empty unmade bed, clothes and cassette tapes strewn about the room. Greg frowned. Wirt should have been home by now. He and Sara were supposed to hang out today and frankly Greg wouldn’t have cared but Wirt wouldn’t stop talking about it whenever he was home. Some things never change Greg though, and walked out of the room. Maybe they’d decided to hang out at Sara’s house. 

“Come on Bagel, we’re going to Sara’s. And on the way, I’m going to think of a better name for you.” Greg carefully placed the frog in his backpack and started walking to Sara’s. He frowned again. Picking a name for his frog was important. Jason Funderberker had been a good name but Wirt didn’t like it so Greg was forced to pick a new one. So far Bagel had been the longest name his frog had ever had, but Greg was worried that Bagel didn’t like being called, well, Bagel, so now he was on a mission for a new one. Except, nothing was coming to mind. In the early days, when he and Wirt had been in the Unknown, he’d thought of a lot of names that ultimately hadn’t worked out but now it seemed as though he’d hit a dry spell. Greg rounded the corner. A good name should demand attention, he thought. A noble name for a noble frog.

Eventually he arrived at Sara’s house. When he knocked on the door, Sara answered. She was still in her pajamas and it took a second before she realized who Greg was. 

“Hey Greg,” she said, looking around him and down the street. “Is Wirt with you?”

“No, I thought he was here. Is he here?” 

“Nope.”

Greg and Sara stood there in awkward silence until Bagel let out a loud croak into the still summer air.

“What was that?” Sara asked.

“Just my frog. Well, if Wirt isn’t here then I’ll keep looking. Thanks anyway!” Greg turned to leave, but just as he did, a cold gust of wind blew into his face.

“Wait where’s Wirt then?” Sara asked. “If he’s not at home then where could he be?” But Greg didn’t respond. Sara stepped outside and stood in front of Greg. His eyes had rolled back into his head and his lips twitched, as if he was saying something, but no sound came out.

“Greg? Greg? Greg are you okay?” Sara grabbed his shoulders and shook him hard, but nothing happened. Suddenly, Greg’s head twitched up and, as Sara screamed, it spun all the way around. His mouth flopped open and a deep voice, that seemed to be coming from deep within Greg’s chest, said, “I know where you are”. All around Sara and Greg, wind picked up and the temperature seemed to drop thirty degrees. Greg’s backpack started to wriggle, and as Sara watched, began to glow.

**Author's Note:**

> yeehaw its 1:52 am pls say this is shit


End file.
